Mommy's rushing around doing things again--does that woman never stop? It's something about making DUMP TRUMP buttons she gives away to people. I don't know who this Trump is, but Mommy says he doesn't have a dog, so I don't like him.
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I've noticed that Mommy, like the rest of her breed, is handicapped by having only two legs, but I'm amazed by what she can do with those two appendages that hang from her shoulders. My special treat is to watch her carry her shoes half-way down the stairs, then toss them across the room toward the couch. Each time they land on it, she yells BINGO!
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The last time she went to the H-E-B, Mommy accidentally (she says) bought a vegetable-based dog food for me which I DO NOT LIKE, but, not being able to drive to the store myself, I don't have a choice. To make up for her error, she's been garnishing the food with bits of raw hamburger meat, but I'm still not forgiving her.
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Oh-oh. Mommy is going through her yellow tablets, ripping pages out, and throwing them on the floor, which means they're destined for the waste basket. She calls it "getting organized." I call it littering.
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Why is it that Mommy, who cuddles the computer, which is nice and warm, in her lap for hours on end, won't let me sleep on it?
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